


A Slytherin Christmas

by meandminniemcg



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas fic, Harry must win the Slytherins' trust, Head of Slytherin Harry Potter, M/M, Pining Harry, Professor Draco Malfoy, Professor Harry Potter, Purebloods decorating a Muggle Christmas tree, bed sharing, brief mention of addiction, extremely self-confident house elf character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-05 14:43:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16812739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meandminniemcg/pseuds/meandminniemcg
Summary: When Slughorn has an accident that makes him unable to work until his scheduled retirement, Harry is the only feasible option for the new Head of Slytherin. Can he win his new house's trust and the Christmas themed House competition while there are students like the Yaxley siblings in Slytherin? And how does he cope when Draco Malfoy is the new Potions Master?





	1. Christmas lights in Hogsmeade

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my awesome beta reader Katherine

**December 1st, 2015, Hogsmeade.**

_Chaperoning an old man should be easier than chaperoning lots of teenagers, shouldn’t it?_ It’s not - not if the old man is a stubborn git called Horace Slughorn. Harry hated his boy-who-lived-twice status for bringing him into such situations again and again. Slughorn, whom they could not let walk to Hogsmeade alone due to his old age, had only allowed someone to accompany him if the person was Harry Potter.

Slughorn didn’t go to Hogsmeade often in winter, but he had a habit of being there on December 1st, when they turned on the Christmas lights, and he insisted on doing so this year, too. Normally, Harry had no problem with being around Slughorn; at least he wasn’t always predicting doom like Trelawney, who had a tendency to sit beside him whenever she had the chance, was.

But recently, Slughorn had developed an obnoxious interest in Harry’s love life- or lack thereof. He kept inviting different witches between seven years older and seven years younger than Harry to Hogwarts, making sure they ate beside Harry and trying to trick him into dating one of them. And today, Slughorn was talking a mile a minute about marriage to Harry again.

“Harry, my lad, I want to live to see your wedding. Your dear mother would be sad to see you alone all the time. She would want you to be happy with someone. You have done so much for us all. You need someone to give you something back.”

“But what if I don’t want a witch? What if I want a wizard?” Harry’s words were only half true, he was bisexual, and things had been good with Ginny in a sexual way, it was just that both had found out after a while that they were better for each other as friends. And, Ginny had found her happiness in Luna. Yet, on the bisexual spectrum, he leaned more towards men.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Harry? Elizabeth Wood’s son, Oliver, is gay, too. Maybe-” Slughorn began.

“I know Oliver, he was my Quidditch captain when I started playing, but he is engaged to Marcus Flint.” Harry thought of Ollie and Marcus and their request to him to write a statement in Marcus’ favour to be allowed to adopt.

“Achilles Wood isn’t happy with his son’s choice,” Slughorn interjected.

“Then Achilles Wood wouldn’t be happy with me, either. He doesn’t accept that his son is gay. As if he didn’t have four older sons who are all married to women.” Achilles’ intolerance of his son’s sexual preference had even led to the split between Achilles and his wife, Elizabeth. 

“Nonetheless, Harry, you shouldn’t be alone. I remember how it was when I was young, me and Abigail. May her soul rest in peace…” He looked into the distance, where the Christmas lights were coming into sight. “She loved the Christmas lights. She was born on Christmas Eve.” He sighed.

_I’m off the hook. If he thinks about his wife, he won’t think about me. Does he try to persuade Neville to get married, too? Is Neville seeing someone? If he is, he hasn’t told me yet. Anyways, seeing someone would be good for him. Dating must be easier for him; people don’t idealise him as much as they idealise me. Nobody gets disappointed if Neville is just an ordinary bloke, and actually, he isn’t that ordinary. Sometimes, I wish I was more like him. He’s so calm and he’s so good at considering things from different sides before he acts._

Suddenly, Slughorn picked up speed as he walked towards the village, but after a few steps, he slipped on the ice and landed flat on his back. A crack of glass came from under him. Bloody hell! Does he carry potions with him everywhere?

“Are you alright? Can you get up?” Harry asked, worried. For an old man such as Slughorn, a fall like that was really dangerous.

“Father, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. Please forgive my clumsiness with your potions. I’ll brew you new ones once we’re at home."

Bloody hell, Slughorn thought he was a kid again. Harry conjured his Patronus and sent it up to Poppy.

After half a minute, Winky and and another house elf named Kipsy came to Apparate Slughorn to the Hospital Wing.

  
The next morning, even before breakfast, Minnie called Harry into her office. “Harry, we have a problem. You know Horace was going to wait to retire at the end of this year, but he can’t teach anymore. The vials that broke under him contained Dreamless Sleep, Felix Felicis, and Veritaserum. None of them endanger his life, but the interactions of them can lead to a temporary state of dementia, especially when they are not imbibed or taken topically, but intravenously, as it happened, because Horace got several cuts in the back of his thighs and his gluteal region. He will be in St Mungo’s for the next few months and when he’s back, it won’t make sense to make him teach again as he will be retiring in a few weeks. That’s why I need your help.” She looked at him expectantly.

“I’m sorry, my potions skills are not nearly good enough to teach some of his Potions lessons along with DADA. Or, do you want me to ask Hermione? Only I don’t know if the Ministry will allow her to take a sabbatical on such short notice?” Harry felt perplexed.

“I don’t need your help to get a Potions Master, but from today’s breakfast on, you are going to be the Head of Slytherin. Have a biscuit.”

“Of Slytherin?” Harry swallowed. He enjoyed being a teacher, and the students came to him with their problems and considered him one of the ‘cool’ teachers – with the exception of the Slytherins, some of who have relatives in Azkaban; there was even one girl and one boy whose grandfather had been Kissed. How could they possibly accept him as their head of house? “Er, are you- are you really sure that’s a good idea to choose me as the head of Slytherin?”

“Harry, I stayed up all night considering the different options, and yesterday evening I had a long discussion with the heads of the other houses discussing all theoretical candidates. But we found out that most of them are even less feasible. The Slytherins don’t take Sybil seriously, and while Aurora may be a Slytherin, her health doesn’t allow more tasks than she already has. Farid is a Squib; he may be the cool Muggle Studies teacher, but it’s important for the Heads of House to have magic in case of emergency. My dear Poppy isn’t a teacher, and Rolanda moved out of the castle after the battle – she needs a large dose of Calming draught to manage the Great hall for every feast, you know, and she doesn’t normally take meals there anymore. Her son died in the Battle. Filius, Neville, and Pomona each have their own houses to manage, so that leaves you and Hagrid.”

“Hagrid? Does he even fit through the portrait holes?” Harry blurted out, only then noticing that he had acted exactly as Minnie had expected him to.

“So as you can see, you are the only one who could become the Head of Slytherin,” Minnie said, looking at him like a stern mother. “What about the new Potions Master? Why can’t they be Head of Slytherin?”

“Firstly, he will still have to prove if he can stay. We can’t have a Head of House who decides one day that teaching isn’t their cup of tea, thank you very much. Secondly, the governors accept that we have an emergency and will tolerate him as Potions teacher, but they don’t want him to get that close to the students.” She looked past him.

“...Who is it?” Harry inquired, feeling a knot in his stomach.

“It’s time we went to make the announcement. Filius, Pomona, and Neville will have made sure nobody left the Great Hall, so everyone will hear us.”

Harry felt trapped. Who was this new Potions Master, and why did it sound like Harry was going to be the Head of Slytherin not just for this school year, but for as long as he was the DADA teacher? Merlin! Was it Zacharias Smith? Or Jules, his ex from when he was in Auror training? 

  
The Great Hall buzzed as usual, but as Minnie and Harry arrived at the teachers’ table, everyone fell silent. Even the clatter of cutlery stopped dead. It was silent enough to hear a pin fall. Minnie cast a Sonorus and started addressing the students. “Good morning everyone. As some of you might have heard already, Professor Slughorn had an accident yesterday in Hogsmeade. He will not be resuming teaching, as he is suffering from a severe interaction of three different potions. His life is not in any danger, but it will take at least six months to for him to recover from their effects.”

From the Slytherin side of the hall, a murmur arose before Amanda Skeeter, one of the Slytherin prefects, stood up and raised her voice, saying “Headmistress, can we visit him? And how will things go on?”

Minnie answered with a voice that Harry recognised as her ‘hiding worries’ voice from teachers’ conferences. “For now, it is not possible, as they don’t have his condition well enough under control, but when St. Mungo’s allows him visitors, your new Head of House will arrange a delegation. And thus, we come to the next point. The new Head of Slytherin is our Professor Potter.” Harry got up and bowed, as he had done at the beginning of the last two school years, imitating the gesture as he remembered it from when Remus did it that year he taught DADA.

“Of course, Professor Potter will keep on teaching Defence, and as our new Potions Master won’t be arriving until this evening, today’s Potions lessons are cancelled. To give the Slytherins an opportunity to bond with their new Head of House and to promote inter-house unity, this year we will have a small entertainment program at the Christmas Feast, during which the houses each will contribute something. The theme is ‘What Christmas means to us’.”

  
Harry was relieved that today he only had to teach two groups of third-years and that he had not taught the lesson on boggarts yet, as it was one that seemed very easy for him to teach and made him always feel especially close to Remus and Sirius. And he needed their help from beyond the veil today, of all days. In his morning lesson with the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, things went as usual. He knew that there was always a student or two who could not face their boggarts in front of the whole class; here, it was only one, a Ravenclaw named Alex Fudge (grandnephew of the late Cornelius Fudge). As usual, he told him to face his boggart in a single lesson after class.

When Alex faced his boggart alone, it was what appeared to be his father yelling at him that he was ‘no longer his child because he wanted to be a girl’. Harry jumped in front of him and faced his own boggart, which was now the fear of having to choose between being the eternal third wheel and having to be a hero 24/7. Yes, he did miss someone to love, but that someone would have to be someone who could see the real Harry through his hero reputation. 

“Alex, if you need someone to talk to, you can always come to me. I have a former classmate who is trans and, if you want, we can invite her to come here and talk to you. I don’t know how your parents would react, but your inside is good regardless of gender, and it’s your inside that makes you the person you are. If someone rejects you because your inside is different from your outside, it’s their loss.”

  
In the Gryffindor-Slytherin class after lunch, he noticed how the Slytherins all hung back and dawdled to get to the back of the line, in hopes that they would run out of time and not have to participate. He kept silent until Natasha Gippius, a Gryffindor whose father had died from a residual curse, was the last Gryffindor in line before turning to the Slytherins.

“You can all face your boggart in single lessons if you need to, but I can’t exempt you from this exercise. It’s part of the curriculum. And you’ll want to know what you can do if you have a boggart in front of you without me telling you that it is one,” he reasoned, trying to convince them.

“Professor, maybe it would be easier to face it without our Head of House, who will know our weaknesses,” Rosemary Waters, one of the three first muggleborn Slytherins ever, explained her housemates’ behavior.

“My job as your Head of House is not to judge your weaknesses, but to help you to know who you are and what you need and to be someone you can trust here at Hogwarts. If you want, I will take an Unbreakable Vow here and now that I won’t judge any of you for your weaknesses.” 

“No, it’s okay. If you show us your boggart first,” Nicolas Pucey interrupted.

So, Harry faced his boggart in front of 35 third-years.


	2. The Snake and The Potions Master

Harry woke up at 2 am. The disturbing dreams that haunted him tonight were not his usual Fiendfyre nightmares, but a mixture of the last day’s events and a parade of horrible Potions Masters that included Rabastan Lestrange, Umbridge, and a racist, sexist billionaire charged with allegations of fraud who thought it could be a stepping stone to becoming Minister of Magic.

When he gave up on trying to sleep again, he decided to write a letter to Hermione and Ron:

  


> Dear Hermione and Ron,
> 
> I always thought that by negotiating with the hat, I would forever be 100% Gryffindor, but yesterday Minnie made me the Head of Slytherin. No, Ron, I’m not kidding you, neither am I on Gillyweed. Slughorn had an accident makes it impossible to do his work anymore. Minnie has found a new Potions Master who ’s coming tomorrow, but the governors don’t trust them enough to become a Head of House, so I have to be the new Head of Slytherin. Ron, tell your mum I say thanks for making the Weasley Sweater she knitted in emerald green. I was glad to have one sweater for the occasion (I refuse to wear black robes as Snape used to; I’d feel like I was going to a funeral every single day).
> 
> The Slytherins are not very fond of the idea of having me as their new Head of House. When Minnie told them that there was no real alternative, they accepted grudgingly but told me they won’t be turning to a Gryffindor for any help and that I’d better not think they could dote on me. Still, they ate the biscuits and drank the hot chocolate with marshmallows and gingerbread spice that I had asked the elves to provide for the talk, so that’s good at least.
> 
> I’ve been trying to think of how I can convince them that I’m an ordinary teacher just like all their others because they seem to think I want to give them bad marks and get them expelled or whatever.
> 
> I need to make them understand that I respect Slytherins so I told them about Regulus and Andromeda, but they seemed unimpressed.
> 
> This Christmas supper, Minnie wants each house to contribute a performance that shows what Christmas means to the students in it. How are we supposed to contribute a performance if they boycott me?
> 
> If either of you has any suggestions, I’m completely clueless, and would love to hear them.
> 
> Yours,
> 
> Harry

  
He got up and paced the floor. Slytherin was still kind of an isolated house, and isolation makes mutual prejudices harder to overcome. If only he could win their trust and change things. But it was harder for him than it would maybe have been for someone else, someone who was not The Boy Who Lived Twice. With a sigh, he turned on his charmed CD-Player and listened to Queen’s ‘’.

He loved the memory of Sirius singing along and Remus looking at him with that soft look, the one he only ever used towards Sirius. Would anybody ever look at him like that?

Remembering them helped ease his fear of the next few days, but it did nothing to curb his sadness and loneliness. He changed the disc to a Christmas compilation Dean and Seamus had given him last year that he hadn’t even listened to yet. The first song was a punk version of ' _Deck the Halls_ '- Another one Sirius would have loved.

Suddenly, he heard a knock at his door. He opened and saw Liam Burke, a rather quiet sixth year Slytherin with scraggly brown hair, almost like he was trying to grow it out. “Professor, you can punish me as much as you want, but I’m worried out of my mind. I can’t find Laris,” he blurted out, fidgeting with his hands.

“Laris?” Harry repeated.

“My grass snake. I know, I’m not allowed to keep a snake in Hogwarts, but they were my mother’s. She died when I was nine.”

“Where did you see your snake last?” Harry asked calmly.

“I was in the Common Room. Someone entered while I was talking to my friend, and then Laris was gone. If Filch finds them, he’ll kill them.” He started sobbing.

“Them? How many snakes did you say you have?” Harry was bewildered.

“Laris is one snake. But they are neither male nor female, so their pronouns are they/them.”

“Come on, we’ll look for them.” Outside the Common Room, Harry bent down. “ **Larissss, are you here? Liam isssss worried about you.** ”

“Professor, you still speak Parsel? They said you lost the ability after defeating Voldemort.”

Harry laughed. “That’s the rumour Rita Skeeter spread. She asked me if I had spoken to a snake recently, and I said not since the Battle of Hogwarts. She assumed that meant I lost the ability, but I simply didn’t have a snake to talk to.”

Liam grinned. “Even Amanda doesn’t have the best opinion of her Aunt Rita. She and Tessa don’t even read the Daily Prophet, just the Quibbler. The zoology pages in the Quibbler a bit weird, but the Quibbler doesn’t lie about politics.”

“Might Laris still be in the Common Room?” Harry asked, focusing on his present task.

“I’m not sure.”

“Let’s give it a try. There’s plenty of hiding places in there.” They entered the Common Room using the password of the week: Regulus. “ **Larisssss, pleassse come out. Liam issss missssing you.** ”

A whisper came from a pile of logs by the fireplace, “ **SSSSSpeaker, I’m sssstuck. Can you help me?** ”

Harry knelt down by the pile and carefully removed log after log until the grass snake’s head appeared. “ **Thankssss. I want to help you, becaussse I can sssmell that you are a ssspeaker and a good persssson. You need them to trussst you. Pleassse, keep me around. They will sssee that you are okay. Liam isss a good perssson, too, and ssso are many in this houssse.** ”

Harry petted the snake’s head. “ **Of courssse you can ssstay.** ” He turned to Liam. “You can’t keep Laris a secret, and I’m not going to make you send them home. I know what it’s like to have lost someone. How about this: while you’re at Hogwarts, Laris can be the house mascot? They will have to live in the common room and we will have to ward the fire logs, so Laris doesn’t endanger themselves anymore. As a punishment for bringing a forbidden pet into Hogwarts, you can help me make a list of Christmas treats to order from the elves for our house meeting this evening. I expect your list at lunchtime. Now, go and get some sleep before the night is over.”

  
It was hardly surprising that Harry was still knackered in the morning. He had just poured a big cup of black coffee with sugar when he felt a brush against his arm from the last free place at the teachers’ table. He turned and stared into Malfoy’s stormy grey eyes. “You?”

“No, a thestral dosed with Polyjuice,” Malfoy drawled.

At that moment, Minnie stood up from her place and called for attention. “Good morning, students. Please, welcome our new Potions Master, Professor Malfoy.” The applause was rather thin, except from the Slytherins.

Had Malfoy always looked so good? He was wearing jeans that emphasised his long legs, and a blue button-down shirt. But the most intriguing things about him were his hands and his lips, shown clearly when he bit into a marmalade bread.

Harry willed himself to get up and go to his classroom for the first lesson of the day, twenty minutes early. This all felt like a bit too much: him having to be the Head of Slytherin and Malfoy looking so hot.

He was painfully aware of looking like shite this morning after the search for Laris in the middle of the night. But, even if he had looked his best, Malfoy was still Malfoy and while Malfoy’s beliefs and political affiliation had changed after the war, Malfoy had not become a friend of Harry’s.

Harry taught two classes in the morning, both Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff, then he walked to his new office, which was close to the Potions classroom.

“Professor Malfoy, you should be our Head of House, not some Gryffindor who didn’t even know he was a wizard until he turned eleven.” Harry recognised the voice of seventh year Cato Yaxley, the grandson of the Death Eater who was Kissed after the war.

A few students murmured approvingly as Harry stopped in his tracks to listen.

“Silence, please,” Malfoy called out. Immediately the room was silent. “You are not first years, you should be aware of the fact that I’m not an option for Head of House presently. Would you prefer to be distributed among the other houses? Or move into the Forbidden Forest, so Hagrid could be your Head of House?”

“That’s absurd,” Cato Yaxley answered.

“Exactly. Not every teacher is able to be a Head of House, and Headmistress McGonagall considered very well whom to choose as Head of Slytherin. Apart from that, Professor Potter is a very good choice. I trust him fully to do his job in your best interest. If I hear that anyone of you boycotts him, you will have a problem with me.” Malfoy’s voice was stern. “I went to school with Potter, and believe me, he has a lot of Slytherin-like ambition. If I had not insulted his very first friend before the Sorting, who knows, maybe he would have been a Slytherin. And Mr. Yaxley, family loyalty is not shown through supporting a murderer because he is your relative, but through doing your best so decent people will know that not everyone in your family is evil. And now, back to the interaction of dittany and wormwood!”

Harry walked on pensively. Malfoy had spoken for him. They had been distant, albeit polite after the war, but Harry had seen a big change in Malfoy. And it made him curious- no, actually more than curious- eager to get to know the man Malfoy had become. If only he could get closer to the blond, but Malfoy always seemed to avoid him. Harry decided he would sit next to Malfoy at their next meal. He was not sure what they could talk about; after all, he could not bring up what he had just overheard, but there had to be something two colleagues could discuss.

  
After dinner, to which Malfoy had not appeared, Harry held a house assembly again. The students sat in the Common Room, most of them with a sulky expression on their faces; only Liam and his two friends Maeve O’Connell and Unique Okafor smiled at him.

“To all I haven’t seen yet today, good evening and thank you for coming to the house assembly,” Harry began.

Someone sneered, “If we had not come, you would have deducted house points, wouldn’t you?”

“I would not. Unless the majority stayed away; I don’t like to punish everyone for the behavior of some. But, those who aren’t here will have to have a talk with me alone. We have something to organise here, and it’s not me who will be allotting those house points.”

“No, it’s the Gryffindor Headmistress.” This time, Harry had seen clearly who said it. It was Cornelia Yaxley, Cato’s younger sister, who was in fourth year. Bloody hell!

“Ms. Yaxley, while I’m aware that house bias is a widespread problem, I believe Headmistress McGonagall would never consciously condone any of it. Firstly, she was the one who faced a lot of opposition after the war to keep all four houses, and to allow students from all houses and all families to return to Hogwarts. Secondly, I’m not entitled to tell you the name of the person she’s been in a relationship with for 15 years now, but it’s someone who was in Slytherin and who takes no nonsense.” Harry thought about Poppy Pomfrey. He had only learned that she had been in Slytherin when he started teaching at Hogwarts because she was convinced that only absolute neutrality could make students from every house trust her fully.

“So, can we proceed with our task at hand? What does Christmas mean to you?” Harry continued.

“We take an international Portkey and visit my grandparents,” Unique said.

“When Mother was alive, we would always have a big Christmas celebration, but alone, Father, my sister, and I never get the Christmas feeling. He buys us presents, but then he works all day and my sister and I sit in our rooms and read.” Harry saw how hard it was for Liam to tell this to his housemates. He wanted to say something reassuring, but he saw that all students who were sitting close to him had already turned to do or say something comforting.

Finally, Amanda Skeeter turned to Harry. “Professor, while some of us think that taking part in a Christmas themed house competition is not worth the effort, I think celebrating Christmas in Slytherin with students whose parents can’t give them a good Christmas is something worth it. And Liam’s sister is in Ravenclaw, so maybe they are not the only ones it will help.”

A discussion started on whether they would have a Christmas celebration for just the Slytherins and invite siblings of other houses as guests, or if they would organise a complete inter-house Christmas party, inviting everyone. Harry made them vote secretly, and the inter-house celebration won with a majority of four-fifths.


	3. Disasters, Patronuses and Biscuits

This morning, after four days of finding him sandwiched in between two colleagues at meals (if he came at all), the seat beside Malfoy was finally free. He made sure to walk up to the chair as silently as possible before sitting down beside Malfoy with a smile and a “Good morning, Malfoy.”

“Good morning,” Malfoy drawled. “How is your first week as King Cobra?”

“Bearable, and how is my favourite thestral? The one as majestic as a real Dragon?” Harry replied with a wink.

“Oi, what do you think you are doing? I’m taking the piss and you give me such a weird compliment!” Malfoy gave him a flabbergasted look.

So, ‘King Cobra’ was supposed to be an insult, then? It seemed Malfoy was getting rusty at taunting. But then, Harry’s own loneliness combined with the fact that Malfoy had had that talk with the Slytherins had probably addled his brain, finding its way into his nighttime fantasies and filling his mind with wishful thinking.

Harry had to regain his self-control. Wanking to thoughts of his ex-nemesis-turned-colleague’s voice and arse was definitely inappropriate, even if said ex-nemesis would never find out.

“Sorry, but I still want to know how you are getting along as the new Potions master. It’s fucking tradition to ask a colleague how he is.” _Bloody hell! From one kind of weirding him out to the next!_ From chaperoning Slughorn to being Head of Slytherin and weirding out Malfoy, this was obviously Harry’s personal ‘out of the frying pan and into the fire’ week.

Harry regretted every wish for Slughorn’s retirement that he had ever had.

“I’m getting along better than you, thank you very much. I heard you found it necessary to bribe them with an expensive _Serpens Fortunatus_ \- how much of your vault did you use for this purpose?” Malfoy said haughtily.

“Unless _‘Serpens Fortunatus’_ is some sort of Malfoy Christmas delicacy, I definitely didn’t spend a single Knut on bribery,” Harry whisper-yelled.

“No, but count on The Prat Who Lived Twice to get even an intersex grass snake for free.”

“Oh, you’re talking about our new mascot? Laris belongs to one of my students, and he inherited them from his mother. I have good reason to give him a conditional exception from the rules.” Harry got up and walked out, expecting a tirade about him breaking and bending rules or about favouritism. He was halfway to his classroom when he realised that he had neither eaten anything nor taken even one sip of his tea. 

_Merlin’s dirty pants! Count on Potions Masters to make my life difficult._

Harry considered going to the kitchens but ended up just transfiguring a Sickle into a goblet and casting an Aguamenti. Water would tide him over to lunch and it wasn’t like he had never had to skip a meal before.

  
Gradually, his fifth year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs trickled in. The topic of the next few lessons was the Patronus Charm, and today they would just talk about happy memories. He was glad that his students were learning it in a peaceful atmosphere.

“Ms. Burke? Do you have a question?” he asked when all others were discussing happy memories with their workgroup. Only Liam’s sister Vivian kept staring at him.

“Professor, what if my memory was happy, but now I feel sad remembering it because someone died? If the time I was happiest was when my mother was alive and we celebrated Christmas?” Vivian’s voice sounded desolate.

“Conjuring a Patronus was not easy for me after my godfather died. It was my friends who helped me through the grief; they showed me I was still loved with all my weaknesses and flaws.” Harry sent thoughts of gratitude to Hermione, Ron, Luna, Ginny, and Neville.

“Sometimes, your Patronus memory can be of the reason you carry on. For quite a while after the Battle of Hogwarts, the only memory I could conjure a Patronus with was of my godson grabbing my finger in his tiny fist and not letting go, relying on his grandma and me to give him his formula and change his nappies.”

“So, my brother can be a Patronus memory, too, like your friends?”

“Definitely. And I’m proud of you for asking.”

  
It was lunchtime and Harry felt as if his shoes had turned to lead as he approached the Great Hall. Now that he had no distraction from his students, the confrontation from this morning was on his mind again. He very much did not want to face Malfoy again, so he would visit the house elves and eat in the kitchens.

“Professor?” A soprano voice called out after him, echoing in the stone hallway he was walking down on his way to the stairs.

He turned around, “Ms. Skeeter, Ms. Matthews? How can I help you?”

“We wanted to ask you if you were available after dinner to meet with the Christmas party coordination committee we founded yesterday after you retired to your rooms and discuss some questions we came up with.”

“Sure? How many are you? I mean, if I want to ask the elves to provide hot chocolate for you all, I need to know how many cups we need.”

“There’s eight of us: one for every year, and then I represent the Quidditch team,” Tessa Matthews said with a smile. She was the Slytherin Seeker, a petite seventh year with brown curls and hazel eyes. “And Amanda and I volunteered to debrief you on Slytherin House’s Christmas traditions. Many of us didn’t want to work with you at first but let’s just say you have two very persuasive advocates. Still, beware of people like the Yaxley siblings. They tell everyone it’s a disgrace that you are our Head of House instead of a proper pureblood.”

“Thank you. I would like you and the committee to decide what you want and don’t want for your Christmas celebration. My role is to support you, make sure you have what you need, and that everyone is being treated fairly. Even though I’ve been celebrating Christmas with my closest friends for years now, I still feel quite like a novice in matters of holiday spirit and, in the last five years, it’s been a good bit of third-wheeling.” He could have kicked his own arse for saying that – it was not any of his students’ business. He was well aware that, no matter how muchpeople wanted to get to know the Saviour of the Wizarding World, once they were confronted with the fact that Harry was just a human being they would, at the very best, push him away. The only one who saw Harry as at all ordinary was Malfoy, and Malfoy loathed him nevertheless.

_Why couldn’t Malfoy just be an all-around git? He has changed so much for better; his attitude towards me is the only part of him left from our school years. And it doesn’t help that he also looks like a wet dream now._

  
“Mr. Harry Potter – what can we be doing for Mr. Harry Potter? Is Mr. Harry Potter needing new biscuits? Mr. Harry Potter was not eating his breakfast. Was it tasting bad?” All the house elves spoke at the same time.

“No, nothing was wrong with the food; Malfoy said something, and I needed some space. And I forgot to take my food with me.” Harry blushed.

“Mr. Draco Malfoy, Clovi is seeing. Mr. Harry Potter should be talking to Mr. Draco Malfoy,” An old elf wearing cerulean blue livery, indicating she was one of the free elves employed by Hogwarts who were allowed to choose the colour of their clothes, spoke up. “Shall Clovi bake rose bread for Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Draco Malfoy?”

“Clovi, thank you but I don’t think that it will be necessary to bake a special bread for two colleagues to manage to live and work in the same school. Please, if you could simply give me something to eat for lunch for now and bring nine hot chocolates and some plates of the same biscuit assortment as yesterday to the Slytherin common room at eight. I promise to do my best not to cause problems with Malfoy.”

Clovi brought a plate with food and Harry ate silently. Then she put one hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, maybe not today, but soon Clovi will bake the rose bread.

  
“…wasn’t there at all, after that incident and he looked like a lost puppy. Nah, there’s no way he’s straight and I think he’s completely besotted.”

“But the other one, too. Yesterday, he was the one with the lost-puppy look. I hope they will get their shit together soon; they could be a hot couple.”

When the students noticed him, they fell silent.

“Good afternoon. Today we will be practicing some protective charms. Divide into two teams and then you can try Buzzing Hexes and Protegos. No, not by house – let’s divide the teams alphabetically today. When you cast Protegos, cast them on your teammates and they will cast them on you. The winning team is the one that can avoid being buzzed longer. The winning team gets to choose our activity for the last lesson before Christmas.”

As he watched them play, his mind drifted away. Why did Malfoy still hate him? But anyway, what was he expecting? He was good enough to save the whole wizarding world, but he would never be good enough to be liked as a person, even for someone he didn’t have such a tense history with. He was sentenced to forever be either everyone’s hero or the person nobody wanted to be close to... at least, not like that.

“Professor! Professor! Everything okay? I said we buzzed Team One.”

Harry looked at the clock. “Well done. Fourteen minutes. As a reward, no homework today. Next up is learning how to combine Protegos.”


	4. Underneath the Mistletoe

Harry knelt in front of the fireplace, calling out, “The Burrow!” He had to find out what the rose bread that the house elves kept offering to bake was all about. It seemed to be something traditional, and who was a better expert on culinary traditions than Molly?

When her face appeared in the flames, her hair tied back in a way she would only do during Christmas baking, he caught a whiff of marzipan and raisins as it came through the Floo.

“Harry, dear! Nice to see you. You never call except on Sundays, but today is Tuesday. I hope everything’s alright? You should eat more, you can’t be so skinny around Christmas. Are the Slytherins making problems?”

“No, no, everything is fine! Most of the Slytherins are okay and cooperate with me. Not for me, mind you, but for this one boy from their house who lost his mother a few years ago. Some of them seem to understand that I care about their well-being, so they’ve sort of begun to respect me. The boy who lost his mother seems to trust me, so he and his two best friends speak for me in Slytherin. But then there are the Yaxley Siblings who are trying to make their housemates hate me. But, that’s not why I’m calling. The House elves keep offering to bake Malfoy rose bread for me, and I don’t even know what that is,” Harry replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

“They must think you two are close, then,” Molly said with a strange smile.

“Me and Malfoy? _Close?_ To what, hexing each other every time we have to be in the same room? Merlin knows I tried to end the feud, but he still hates me, and it’s not like he doesn’t have good reason to. I’ve just been trying to avoid him; it’s the least I can do after what I did to him.” A leaden weight seemed to lodge inside his stomach.

“Harry, didn’t you tell me he tried to curse you, too? And didn’t you save his life in the Room of Requirement? Whatever he says or does, you deserve something good in life. The arguments with Malfoy have been really bothering you, haven’t they?”

“I thought we could make peace now that we’re colleagues, but he still just insults me.” Harry was shocked at his own depressed voice. Molly reached through with her arms and gave him a hug. “And that depresses you, because you want him in your life. I know. But, have you had lunch yet? I guess it’s a bit late to go to the Great Hall now, wait, take the rest of my quiche. Enjoy your meal.”

“Thank you, Molly. And about…”

“Harry. How about we talk about it later? You need to eat before your next class.We can talk more when you don’t have a class to go to.” And she disappeared back through the Floo.

  
Harry ate his quiche without really tasting it; he knew it was exquisite as always, but Molly's food didn't help as much as he hoped her words would. Then, he got up and headed towards his classroom to teach the first-years. When he heard Malfoy’s voice across the corridor, he dodged into an empty classroom. No need for another one of Malfoy’s remarks on how ugly his hair was or whatever was trending in his insult charts nowadays. What kind of a fucking idiot was he anyway, to read Malfoy’s publications and then accidentally grow fond of him?

“Mr. Yaxley, you have no idea what you are talking about. _Nothing_ was better in those days.” Malfoy sounded exasperated.

“They respected purebloods,” Yaxley said petulantly.

“When I was in fourth year, there was the Triwizard Tournament. We had our pureblood champion, Cedric Diggory, and I rooted for him, as did all the other Slytherins. Not all Gryffindors were for Potter. Diggory was brave, ambitious, and clever. But, Voldemort had him killed without a second thought. Voldemort and his Death Eaters didn’t care about purebloods, they just cared about lording over life and death. Living under his rule was hell. I saw him kill his most loyal followers for insignificant reasons; one man died for just sneezing in his presence.”

As they moved on, Harry couldn’t make out what else was said. He sighed resignedly. Ever since Malfoy’s probation was over and he was allowed to speak publicly about his political opinion again, he had dedicated lots of time and effort to spreading knowledge on how horrible life under Voldemort had really been – even for the families who could’ve gained financially from his success. Harry saw that Malfoy wasn’t taking the easy way of buying his way back to being respected, but instead was speaking of his and his family’s guilt and using a large portion of the Malfoy fortune, more than the Malfoys had gained through Lucius Malfoy’s shady dealings, to help the people the wizarding world liked to forget about, like the Squibs and Lycanthropy patients.

In comparison, Amycus Carrow’s son Alexander, who never spoke about his or his parents’ guilt, had been welcomed into society’s good grace as he did business with the Ministry, no matter how much Kingsley spoke against it.

It made Harry angry to think that someone who tried to atone for some of the damage caused by his family was treated with suspicion every step of the way, while someone like Carrow was treated as if his family hadn’t even been part of the war.

Harry resumed walking towards his classroom, only to find himself unable to move on, just as he reached the doorway. He looked up. _Oh no. Not another mistletoe prank._

A few girls were standing around among his seventh years, three of which tried to approach him after they realised what had happened.

“No. Call a teacher. Please,” he urged them, trying to stay calm as the panic rose in him. One girl turned and walked away while the others kept coming closer. Then, suddenly, although they never stopped walking, they were prevented from getting any nearer to the mistletoe trap. Hogwarts sure has gotten safer since Harry was a student.

Harry felt slightly panicky. This was not the first mistletoe prank he’d gotten stuck in, but it was the first one since he became head of Slytherin. And, he got the feeling there was something more serious than holiday mischief behind this prank.

He waited for a while until he heard steps approaching. The girl from before had returned… with Malfoy. _Merlin’s balls! I hope he knows a spell to vanish the mistletoe._

Malfoy came closer with a strange smile on his face. _There’s no need to step that close to vanish them or tell me he’s calling Minnie, or maybe Filius, for help. Good thing that Sybil doesn’t ever come to this corridor because of all the steps. I wouldn’t want her to kiss me._

Now, Malfoy took Harry’s hand and lifted it to his mouth, bending down and meeting it halfway with his lips. _Soft._ But, why didn’t he do what the teachers usually did when the mistletoe was too high up to vanish and just kiss Harry’s cheek? Was Harry so repulsive? 

“I think you can go to your classroom now, Potter. Your students are waiting,” Malfoy reminded Harry.

“Thanks.” He walked towards his classroom slowly, feeling the pain of rejection once more.

“Don’t mention it.”

>em>Of course you don’t want it to be mentioned, makes it easier for you to pretend you never had to touch my hand with your lips. Maybe it would have been better for Sybil to kiss him. At least it wouldn’t have deepened his heartache.

  
As his afternoon lesson ended, Minnie’s Patronus called him to come to the Headmistress’ office with Liam Burke. There was an emergency.

He found Liam in the common room talking under his breath to Laris – not in Parseltongue, because he wasn’t able to, but nonetheless he was telling something to the snake coiled up on his lap. “We have to help them get together. For two people as clever as they are, they really are quite stupid in matters of the heart. They went through so much, and they deserve to be happy. You know, they are like my favourite grownups.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Burke,” Harry said. “We have to go to the Headmistress’ office. It looks like something’s happened at your home.” He was worried about Liam and his sister. What if their father was in danger or had died?

Liam turned pale. He put Laris into the terrarium Harry had conjured for them and followed Harry to Minnie’s office.

“Whatever it is, you are not alone. And you can talk to me any time, day or night,” he told Liam. It was what he would have needed in his youth, and he was determined to give it to his students.

  
When they arrived at Minnie’s office, she ushered them to the Floo, where there was a Firecall from Liam’s father waiting.

“I have talked to Vivian already. I have a problem. I’m addicted to work and Dreamless Sleep, as you told me last summer, and my healer demands that I go to St. Mungo’s immediately for inpatient detoxification and mind healing. It means you both will have to stay at school for Christmas, but I just can’t put this off for any longer. Please, forgive me.” Mr. Burke’s voice sounded depressed.

“It’s okay, Papa, I’m glad you decided to get help. And I’m not alone, Vivian is here, too. Can we call you at Christmas?” Harry had the feeling that Liam had put on his ‘responsible adult’ mask. He decided to have a talk with him later about his father’s addiction and his own needs.

But for now, it was important that Liam and Vivian Burke had proper company at Christmas.

“Mr. Burke, this year, nobody else will be staying at Hogwarts over the Holiday, as we have a new program to arrange students who would normally stay at school to join trusted families to celebrate. The regular arrangements were made already, but the Weasleys had agreed to take any emergency guests, and that’s also where I celebrate Christmas every year. Your children can either join me to stay with the Weasleys over the holidays, or else I’ll stay at Hogwarts with them. Can they join the Weasleys’ Christmas?”

“But – but would the Weasleys welcome the niece and nephew of the owner of Borgin and Burke’s? My brother hasn’t really dropped the business practices of our father, and I’m too cowardly to cut contact with him. I just started a career at Quidditch Monthly to try to be away from all of that.”

“Mr. Burke, your son and daughter are not your brother, or even you. And they are teenagers. What they need is a place where they are welcome for Christmas. And the Weasley family is the most welcoming family I know. I’ve been teaching your children for a while now, and I know that the Weasleys will not only welcome them because they volunteered, but because they will be genuinely happy to have the company,” Harry reassured him, noticing that Mr. Burke was calming down.

“Professor, can we really join you and the Weasleys for Christmas?” Liam asked, and Harry thought he noticed a trace of excitement underneath the apprehension in the boy’s voice.

“Yes, I’ll gladly take you both with me when I go to my family, because that’s what the Weasleys are to me. Teddy Lupin will be there, too, because I’m Teddy’s godfather.”

Mr. Burke chimed in, saying, “I’m glad I can tell my brother that Liam and Vivian will be celebrating Christmas with their school friend’s family. I would hate for them to be at Burke Hall for Christmas.” He took some Galleons out of his bag and passed them through the Floo. “Liam, make sure you and Vivian have some nice presents for the Weasleys and Professor Potter. I expect you to behave well.”

“Yes, Papa, and er, get well soon.”

  
When the call was finished, Harry reminded Liam to just knock at his office door if he ever needed someone to talk to, because that’s what a head of house is for.

“Professor, I’m less worried about my father than I have been in years. Now he’s doing something to get well. And I trust your found family to be better company for Christmas than my father has been the last two years.”

They went together to the planning meeting, as Liam was the representative for his year.

  
The students decided to put up two Christmas trees in the Great Hall: one Muggle and one Classical Magic. The term ‘Classical Magic’ was coined by Neville as a way to describe an approach to the old pureblood traditions that dropped anything discriminatory, opening up morally acceptable wizarding traditions to everyone, regardless of their origins or blood status.

Furthermore, they wanted a dance at the Christmas celebration which would be opened by the heads of houses and their respective dates. Harry was uncomfortably reminded of the Yule Ball in his fourth year. His lack of enthusiasm must have shown in his face, as Amanda spoke up.

“You look like this worries you, Professor? You’re single, aren’t you?”

“Well, er, yes, and even though there may be lots of people who would like to go with me, I’m lacking an agreeable date.” Where did his choice of words come from? It sounded like he was quoting Malfoy.

“Don’t worry Professor, we can arrange a date for you, and it won’t be some starstruck fan. I know you’re uncomfortable around them. You’re okay with your date being a man?” Amanda sounded as if they were discussing biscuits instead of dates.

“I won’t accept any student as a date.” Harry gave her a stern look.

“Don’t worry, we have an idea who is from your generation and you are going to like him.” Her smug expression worried Harry, but he couldn’t find anything in the plan to argue against. Finally, he figured that it was just one evening, and couldn’t possibly be worse than the last Ministry ball he had been coaxed into attending, right?


	5. Deck The Halls

**December 20, 5 am**

Was that a pop of Apparition? No, it couldn’t be. After Dobby’s death, no house elf had ever come to Harry’s bedroom while he was still in bed, except when he had fallen ill. It must have been a dream. He closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.

“Mr. Harry Potter. Please be forgiving Seemy for disturbing Mr. Harry Potter’s sleep.”

Harry rolled over to look at the side the voice came from. Without his glasses, all he could see was a house elf’s hand, holding out his glasses for him helpfully. He put them on and saw a female house elf wearing indigo Marlene trousers and a sheer orange blouse over a green bra. Despite knowing little of house elf beauty standards, he understood at first sight that the elf’s posture showed her confidence in her own attractiveness. 

“Who are you? And why are you in my bedroom at this early hour?”

“Seamy is a free elf working for the Burke family. Mr. Liam said that Mr. Harry Potter is needing Seamy’s help to look his best for the Christmas dance. Mr. Harry Potter is needing to impress his date.” Seamy strutted over to the wardrobe, opened it and pulled Harry’s three sets of dress robes and two suits out, one by one. She sighed dramatically. “Mr. Liam should have asked Seamy three days ago. Seamy could have designed new dress robes for Mr. Harry Potter. Seamy will do what Seamy can with what Mr. Harry Potter has. ”

Harry imagined himself in one of the gaudy garments that free elves liked to wear and his face twisted.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Harry Potter. Seamy is good at the styles wizards like. Seamy has worked for Twilfit, but the Burkes pay better and respect Seamy more. And Seamy wanted to work at the same house as her loves. This grey dress robes could be turned emerald with a fancy lapel, or Seamy could transfigure the pinstripe Armani suit into dress robes. Seamy will wait in the drawing room, and Mr. Harry Potter should show Seamy how both options look on him.” She walked through the door to Harry’s drawing room.

_Well, if she makes me look like a house elf, I’ll just wear my blue dress robes. Who cares what I wear tonight? It’s not like I’m going to the dance with someone I actually have a future with._

He put on the grey robes first and went to the drawing room.

“Oh, Mr. Harry Potter! This is having much potential, but it’s quite a piece of work. And is Mr. Harry Potter not having any thongs?”

“You mean like what Australians call flip-flops? I can’t go to a winter dance wearing flip flops.” He remembered visiting Hermione’s parents with her and Ron after she had restored their memories of her. Despite a lot of third wheeling, it had been interesting, as it had been his first journey abroad.

“No, Seamy is definitely not meaning anything as asinine as _flip-flops_. Mr. Harry Potter is having the most elegant dance partner; how is he going to impress him if he is wearing boxer shorts under his dress robes? Mr. Harry Potter must look like decently wrapped up sex on legs for his dance partner.” Her tone and facial expression reminded Harry strongly of Pansy Parkinson now – not teenage Pansy Parkinson, but grownup Pansy – who had visited Neville a few times with Blaise and Ginny and who seemed to have changed for the better, according to what Neville and Ginny had told him. Pansy worked as a freelance press photographer now and, surprisingly, she had never chased him at a function nor in his private life, as was the par with almost all of her colleagues, until Minnie had banned all cameras from the grounds of Hogwarts.

“So, Mr. Harry Potter has no thong?” Seamy asked sternly.

“No, and I have never had the intention to look like ‘sex on legs’. I’m a teacher; looking sexy is completely out of place.” Harry rolled his eyes. What was this copyelf Pansy Parkinson up to? Was someone pranking him?

“Mr. Harry Potter can’t tell Seamy he doesn’t feel sexual attraction to any man of his own age. Mr. Harry Potter needs to mate. Mr. Harry Potter can’t stay alone and start brooding while all his friends mate and are happy. So, there will be an equally lonely Mr. Surprise waiting for Mr. Harry Potter. Seamy was lonely, too before she started mating with Reesly and her husband Dobry – the ideal match for a bisexual elf like Seamy with a kink for threesomes. But Mr. Harry Potter needs just one wizard.” She waved her hand around his body without ever touching it, talking without a break.

“Sorry, Seamy, but that’s too much information.” Was he being a prude? It was good that the elf enjoyed her life. But it was painful that everyone, even the house elves, seemed to have nothing better to talk about than everyone’s love lives, and he knew he would only meet starstruck idiots tonight, and the only person he could imagine himself fancying had a hundred reasons to hate him. Last year, when he wasn’t a head of house, he would have just skived off the Christmas dance.

  
Over the course of Harry’s short walk to the Great Hall, he cast the spell Seamy had taught him, which transfigures his pants into different styles, twice. The first attempt was immediately uncomfortable and the second had given him a wedgie before he’d even left the dungeons. His most recent try felt a bit weird on his skin; it was narrow, thin and... lacy? At least it was more comfortable than the others were, and as long as he avoided urinals, nobody would see the whatever it was he was now wearing.

“Find what works for you, and Seamy will bring Mr. Harry Potter’s dress robes in the evening,” she had said.

Although Harry was bi and even had a preference for blokes, this pair of pants was gayer than he would ever have thought he could pull off. But Seamy had given him only two options: wearing the lingerie or going without until Christmas day. Any pants he put on would transfigure themselves into a sexy piece of lingerie; just like every pair of socks he would put on would become a pair of sheer stockings and a garter belt, thanks to Seamy’s magic. He was doomed to wear sexy clothes until Christmas.

He sat down at a place between two empty chairs, not in the mood to talk to anyone.

“Potter, what happened to make you mope like this?” Malfoy sat down next to him.

Harry mumbled, “Didn’t sleep well.”

“There’s news concerning the mistletoe incident. The consent wards the headmistress had put up prevented the worst outcome; it turns out, Cato Yaxley had intended to take a picture of a student kissing you to get you fired. But he went too far and bragged about it to his friends, who found it against their conscience to keep silent and went to McGonagall. After Christmas, he will have to face the disciplinary committee. And everyone heard you tell the students to call a teacher.”

“I knew it wasn’t just another prank,” Harry stated before becoming aware that Malfoy had known all about it while he, the head of house, had been ignorant up until this moment. This fucking lingerie he couldn’t quite forget he was wearing under his jeans and sweater didn’t exactly help either… He couldn’t even concentrate when he was sitting beside Malfoy, smelling his cologne, and feeling the lace underneath his clothes. He was so aware of it that it started to feel like Malfoy knew what he had on, too.

“I’m the only one apart from the Headmistress who knows so far. She asked me to tell you. Mr. O’Riordan approached me while you were with the Burkes yesterday evening. You can’t be in two places at once, no need to get so uneasy.”

“No, it’s just something weird happened this morning, and … I don’t really think it would be good if I told you, or anyone.” If Malfoy took the piss about smaller things, how much would he laugh at Harry because of the house elf and pants incident?

Malfoy poured him some tea, then stirred in three pieces of sugar and exactly the right amount of milk before placing a croissant on Harry’s plate. “Honey or cheese?”

Harry just stared at Malfoy.

“Potter? Honey or cheese? You always eat either honey or cheese on croissants. I expect you to eat something.” Since when did Malfoy know his eating habits? And what the fuck was it to him if Harry ate or not?

“Er, cheese.” Harry didn’t really care. His thoughts were revolving around lingerie, mistletoe, and Malfoy sitting beside him and how he would take the piss if he knew Harry’s pants were cursed by a house elf.

He took the cheese croissant and ate it without really tasting it. The events of the last days were whirling through his mind.

  
Somehow, he managed to stumble through the morning. Minnie told him in more detail about Yaxley’s plot against him, and that Yaxley had already been sent home through the Floo, suspended from school until his appearance before the disciplinary committee. Thank Merlin he had gotten himself to forget about the cursed underwear while talking to Minnie.

At noon, he asked the elves for a sandwich and went to the Room of Requirement because he needed it to conjure him a full-length mirror. He absolutely had to see what awful thing that elf had made out of his reasonable boxer shorts and warm, reindeer patterned socks.

I need a fitting room. After the third time he passed, the door appeared. He opened it to find a something that looked nothing like any fitting room he had ever seen before. It wasn’t much smaller than the Prefects’ bathroom with seven different mirrors, a red Louis Quinze sofa, and in the corners, Louis Quinze chairs. On a clothes rack made of carved wood hung designer dress robes in a myriad of different sizes and colours. A table held a bottle of Hawaiian Fountain water in a champagne cooler. And he had the feeling that, should he require this room late in the evening, there might be champagne in the cooler. Beside the cooler, there stood two very posh-looking crystal glasses. Anyway, no matter how unusual this fitting room was, he didn’t have time to dawdle. He had to be ready on time to prepare the great hall with his Slytherins. So he quickly shed his sweater, noticing that his t-shirt had not changed with the rest of his undergarments. Not really knowing why, he took it off, too.

He became aware of music playing in the background. It was ‘Breakthru’ by Queen, and as the music got louder, he caught sight of himself in the mirror, noticing that his hair had taken on some resemblance with Sirius’ hair – the length making it look less messy and more attractively wild. The magical tattoos on his chest and upper arms only increased this impression. Over the last few years, he had gotten a matchbox-sized pair of antlers with lilies wound around them above his left nipple that didn’t move, but changed their colours slightly with the time of day; two berry-sized sets of paws that walked around; three matchstick-sized wands, on his upper arm where he could see them, that conjured Ron, Hermione, and his own Patronuses when he needed the comfort; and the silver colour outline of a dragon as big as a tangerine that roamed his whole torso. He wasn’t even sure why he had this tattoo; he had dreamt of it one day and asked Dean to make it for him.

Harry had never seen Sirius listen to rock music without dancing to it. What would it look like if he did that? He made some tentative dance moves, including rolling his hips, and it looked better than he had thought it would, but he had not come here to test his dancing skills or find out that he had a little resemblance in the influenceable aspects of his looks with his godfather, even though it felt good. It was time to just rip off the band-aid. He summoned all his courage, braced himself for an embarrassing sight, and pulled down his jeans.

It – it looked – good. He was wearing black stockings with emerald lace on top where the garter belt was attached and emerald lace pants that would turn him on very much if he were to see them on someone else. It wasn’t as bad as he had thought, but he still couldn’t imagine letting anyone else look at it. Though, he did still want to see himself from all sides. He turned to see two mirrors that could show him how he looked from behind.

He nearly screamed when he turned to another mirror – there was someone behind him and not just anyone, but Malfoy! Harry turned around to face him. Nobody was there. He looked at the frame of the mirror and calmed down. It was the Mirror of Erised. Looking again, he saw Malfoy and himself in the reflection. Malfoy was wearing similar, red lingerie and looking delicious in it. Harry resisted the urge to have a wank here and now; he had to get into a normal state and do his head of house duties.

In an attempt to suppress his arousal, he was trying to think about Dumbledore when a motion at the edge of his vision caught his attention. In one of the mirrors across the room, he saw the image of his parents, Sirius, and Remus hexing Dumbledore. He had never seen that particular mirror before, but weird objects would always be a part of the Hogwarts experience... Well, it probably served Dumbledore right. With every year Minnie was the Headmistress of Hogwarts, he discovered more faults in Dumbledore’s way of leading a school. Most of which didn’t even have anything to do with Dumbledore sending him to the Dursleys.

  
He ate his sandwiches and went to the Great Hall to meet his Slytherins. This afternoon, there were no lessons so the Houses could prepare what they had planned for Christmas. He had heard from Neville that the Gryffindors had organised small, crafted presents for every student, the Ravenclaws had prepared a short play and some songs, and the Hufflepuffs had baked and decorated gingerbread.

When he arrived, the students were already busy decorating the tall Christmas trees. The half-bloods and Muggleborns were decorating the Classical Magic tree with all the traditional baubles, figures of beasts, and fairy lights with real hibernating fairies while the purebloods were trying to put odd things on the Muggle tree. Was that-? Yes, it was perfume flacons, tampons, and inflated condoms. “I don’t think that any of this can really be found on a muggle Christmas tree,” Harry said, suppressing a laugh.

“But Christmas is a birthday, and there are balloons at birthdays, especially for children,” Amanda Skeeter reasoned.

“Where did you get those ‘balloons’ and the other things?” Harry asked.

“Last weekend, I _Apparated_ to a Muggle shop called Boots in London. Then, I cast _Point Me_ with my wand hidden in my sleeve to find the decorations. I even used Muggle money!” she explained.

“That was a resourceful approach, but I think the descriptions of the things your wand was supposed to point you to must’ve been a bit ambiguous.”

“Then- then some of the things don’t belong there?” she exclaimed, clearly shocked. "Is it the artifact with a ribbon that makes it possible to hang it up, or the inflatable latex thingy in different colours? No- it must be the scented glass bottles, they have nothing to hang them up with.”

“I’m afraid, it’s all three of them. But it’s nothing a few well-aimed transfigurations can’t fix. We just need to change our approach a bit. You know, there’s nothing wrong with making a mistake in school, as long as you learn from it.” He gave her an encouraging smile inwardly thanking Remus for telling him this during a DADA lesson in his third year.

“But then, what are these things?” Amanda asked, her disappointment yielding to curiosity.

“These vials contain perfume, and er, did you learn about condoms during the health module of muggle studies? The things you took for balloons are actually condoms.”

“What muggle men use instead of contraceptive and STD prevention charms? Those things they showed us how to use by pulling them over bananas because anything else would be indecent? I see. And what are the ribbon artifacts?”

Unique, who had just walked past, stopped and told her, “That’s for menstruation. Muggles don’t have blood-vanishing pants.”

“I went shopping like an idiot,” Amanda muttered.

“You could have sidealonged me, you know. But we’ll get that fixed.” Unique aimed her wand at one condom. “ _Sphaera yule._ ”

A beautiful blue bauble with golden spirals appeared.

Harry put the students into pairs and set up a table at the side for them to transfigure the items. He collected the first baubles and directed them into appropriate places on the Christmas tree, wordlessly and wandlessly. This was actually fun. He walked to and fro between the table and the tree picking items and decorating, gradually turning his walk into a strut and humming ‘Breakthru’ under his breath. After his students had finished decorating and were free to go, he stayed behind, summoned a box of broken quills from a classroom, and transfigured them into straw stars before decorating the tree with them, by now singing ‘Breakthru’ out loud. When a sound came from the door, he looked there to see Malfoy watching him with a kind of smile like Harry had never seen on his face. 

Their eyes met, Harry gave a wave, and Malfoy turned and walked away. Harry had probably gotten it wrong and Malfoy’s smile had not been friendly, but derisive. Merlin’s pants!

He continued his work, now dejectedly, because it was his job to make this party enjoyable for his students.

  
When it was time to dress for the evening, he went back to his quarters, reminding himself that skiving wasn’t an option. Seamy was already there waiting for him.

“Mr. Harry Potter must be hurrying up. Mr. Liam has been saying that Mr. Harry Potter has to be looking his very best because his date is being someone Mr. Harry Potter is needing in his life. Mr. Harry Potter must be taking a shower. Now!” She pushed him into the bathroom, cast a shaving spell on him and closed the door from the outside. He showered at a normal speed, even though he felt tempted to prolong the time before facing whoever his students considered a suitable date for him. He reminded himself for the millionth time that Liam and Amanda were friendly students and weren’t likely to pick someone who would harm him. But, they’re inexperienced and they might underestimate the way people react to me. Luckily, none of them know what it’s like to be admired as a hero without being accepted when he was weak, except by friends, who were like his siblings.

Again, the boxers and socks he put on turned immediately into emerald coloured lace lingerie, this time immediately forming the shape that was most comfortable. Actually, it was kind of a shame that he had nobody to try to look attractive for. And even more of a shame that the person he would want to please most by wearing this was someone who would never want to see it. 

As he came out of the bathroom, Seamy handed him a white dress shirt, emerald dress trousers, and finally, an emerald robe cut in the modern form that revealed more than the traditional style did, inspired by Auror robes but in a distinctively festive style, and with a lily and narcissus pattern on the lapel.

After dabbing a bit of cologne on him, she grabbed his arm and sidealonged him to a dark corridor. “Be waiting here. And don’t be messing up your looks.” Her tone was intimidating.

She _Disapparated_ and reappeared again a bit down the corridor less than a minute later with a man whose outline looked familiar but who Harry couldn’t quite place. They approached and Harry recognised him by the distinct smell of the cologne Harry could smell in the Extract of Amortentia that George sold these days. It was Malfoy.

Seamy lit the formerly dark lamps with a spell and Harry gasped. Malfoy had always been gorgeous, and on special occasions, he had always looked elegant, but tonight… tonight he looked like Harry had thought nobody could look outside a wet dream.

“Potter!” It didn’t hold the usual harshness, rather a breathless surprise.

“Well, er, this is unexpected,” Harry said awkwardly, struggling to remember how to speak while he was gazing at Malfoy’s khol-lined eyes. Malfoy looked rather more like a rock star than a Potions teacher.

“Looks like those imps have set us up on a blind date for the dance and we have to go along with it if we don’t want to make fools of ourselves.” Was Malfoy seriously not making a scene or irrationally accusing him? Was Harry dreaming?

“Malfoy, I’m sorry for all the things I did that harmed you. I - I wish I could undo the past.”

“Are you kidding? I was a git. I had a Hippogriff I had disrespected and that only acted according to its nature sentenced to death, I insulted your friends, insulted you for befriending them, broke your nose, and tried to crucio you. And I’m still an arse for answering your pity with anger.”

“It’s not pity that makes me try to talk to you. As much as I disliked the person you had tried to be then, I understand now that it was all to please your father, and it makes me admire the person you are now all the more. You are honest about the past, even the parts you aren’t proud of, you care about your students, you are reasonable, clever, witty… and I wish we could finally leave that old pattern of behavior and be friends. But I accept that this time, and as often as I try to repeat it, _you_ are the one to deny _my_ handshake.”

Malfoy’s eyes went big. He grabbed Harry’s hand with both of his own and held it tightly. “This is a dream, isn’t it? I’ll wake up and none of it will have happened.”

“If this is a dream, then I’m dreaming it, too.” Harry couldn’t avert his eyes from Malfoy’s. He felt Malfoy’s warm hands around his. A perfect handshake, that neither of them wanted to let go of.

  
“Potter, I’m amazed. I expected you to be as clumsy on the dancefloor as you were in fourth year, but you dance like you do this every day.” Malfoy gave him an approving look.

“It’s easy to dance with you. But also, I had to take dancing lessons when I was an Auror. You know, back when I had no excuses to avoid Ministry functions.” Harry shuddered, thinking of three and a half years ago when he was still an Auror and hated it, was tired of fighting, and loathed being dragged to Ministry functions just so they could brag about him.

“What a dire fate, having to go to a Ministry ball once in a while!” Malfoy grinned.

“Well, my average dance partners had the wit of a torn off piece of wallpaper, a mind as bright as a _Nox_ , and only eyes for press cameras that might take a picture of them with The Golden Boy.”

“The last time I attended a ball was in fifth year over winter hols. I had to dance with Pansy, which was okay because she didn’t expect anything more from me. But, you know the heteronormativity of the old pureblood society.”

“Yeah, I heard about it.”

They danced and talked for hours, and Harry couldn’t remember ever having had that much fun at a dancing event. Neither of them even noticed when they switched to addressing each other by their first names.

  
“Heads of houses, please come to me,” Minnie called out, her voice enhanced with a _Sonorus_.

Harry and the others complied.

“Dear students, dear heads of houses, you have truly astonished me. I initiated a competition between the houses to encourage the Slytherins to cooperate with their new head of house despite my fears that it might increase house rivalry. Instead, the Slytherins had the idea to put together this amazing Christmas dance, and the other houses contributed their share to a successful celebration. In all my years as a teacher, I have never seen so many Slytherins dancing, talking, and laughing together with students from other houses. I’m proud of you all, and as it wouldn’t be reward enough for any of you to receive 100 points per house, I have found a different reward for you. From January on, we will have a monthly fun activity on every last Friday night. Suggestions for the activities can be submitted to your head of house or to me. And now, dear colleagues, my Christmas presents to the houses. For Gryffindor,” she handed Neville a small parcel wrapped in red, while the Gryffindors applauded, “for Hufflepuff,” a parcel the same size wrapped in yellow, “for Ravenclaw,” Filius accepted the Ravenclaw present with a bow, “and for Slytherin.” Harry heard his students applaud enthusiastically. He looked into the audience to the corner where his Slytherins were sitting together – students he never expected to accept him smiled at him and clapped their hands. The teachers then opened the presents simultaneously. Inside were magic-compatible music players for each of the common rooms.

“Professor Potter, lend us the music you listen to in your quarters some time, please!” O’Riordan shouted.

And again, there was dancing, though this time no longer to traditional songs, but rock, pop, and rap. Draco and he were dancing closer together, now, which felt much more awkward than it should have because Harry had to hide a burgeoning erection. He couldn’t ruin their new-found friendship by creeping Draco out.


	6. Silent Night?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again thanks to my awesome beta reader Katherine. You are brilliant!
> 
> I also want to thank GlitternGlow and featherflairs for helping me with one scene of this chapter that I struggled with, as well as keyflight790 for letting me scream or rant about my writing process at Drarry discord... 
> 
> In this chapter, I mention the Provence: That's a region in the south-east of France. Among other interesting places, Grasse, famous for its perfume production, is in the Provence.

The morning of Christmas Eve, Draco sat down next to him at the table with a wide smile. “Good morning Harry, looking forward to visiting your family?”

“Yes, I am.” _Although, after the last few days, I wish I could spend a few evenings talking to you this hols._ “And you?”

The last three days, they had sat together at meals and Draco had visited Harry in the evenings for a cup of hot chocolate and an interesting conversation. Harry had adopted the habit of sitting with a cozy comforter, mind you, not because he was all that cold, but because Draco had the habit of casually touching his shoulder, and how could such a small innocent touch give him a hard-on each time? And what if Draco noticed? Of course, that all meant that now he had to offer Draco a blanket too, if only to prevent Draco from trying to share his. 

This morning, it was only Harry, Draco, the Burkes, Poppy, and Minnie in the school. All the other students and teachers had already left for home, and everyone who was left was assembled around a small table now, trunks already packed to leave.

An eagle owl approached the table and landed right on Draco’s marmalade bread.

“Watch out, silly bird. You’re not food; learn to land beside the plate,” Draco scolded, but couldn’t hold back a grin.

He took the letter from the bird and, as he perused it, his smile faded.

“Draco, what is it? Do you want to talk about it?”

“I can’t go to my parents’. Their Floo is broken, they couldn’t get a Portkey for me, and the Provence is too far away to _Apparate_ , especially in winter.” Draco’s voice sounded gloomy.

“Come with us. Molly has a habit of cooking twice the as much food as she needs for the number of people at the table, and I’d be grateful if I’m not the only single adult there.”

“They wouldn’t want me to be their guest.” Draco gave Harry a gloomy look and pushed back his chair, presumably to take his trunk back to his chambers at Hogwarts.

“Draco, no!” Minnie firmly grabbed onto Draco’s shoulder. “I shan’t allow my employees to act like imbeciles in front of students. You will sit here with the rest of us and wait while Harry arranges everything with the Weasleys.

Harry got up to go firecall Molly, and as soon as he was out of Draco’s sight, he started running. He needed to arrange this as fast as possible so he could spend Christmas with Draco!

  
“The Burrow!”

Arthur’s face appeared in the flames. “Harry, are you coming through already? We thought you were going to be here in a few hours?”

“No, not yet, but, er, Arthur, Draco Malfoy suddenly has nowhere to go for Christmas, and I thought…”

Arthur turned his head. “Molly, Harry is bringing a plus one.”

Molly’s head appeared beside Arthur’s. “It’s Draco Malfoy, isn’t it? How lovely. Are you two dating?” She grinned like the cat that got the cream.

“No, we’ve just become friends. Are you sure it’s alright that he’s here for Christmas?” Harry asked shyly.

“Are you kidding, every December since you persuaded us all to read his book, George and Ron have had bets running on if you would invite him for Christmas this year. If you _were _dating him, I’m sure he would get the ‘don’t you dare hurt our Harry’ speech from Ron, same as anyone else you might end up dating. And we will more than readily welcome Draco into the family.”__

__“Molly, we’re just friends. You know that I wish we were more, but...”_ _

__“He will have to sleep in the same room with you. But tell him I’m happy to welcome him to our house. And ask him if he sleeps with one pillow or two.” Harry was frightened again. How would he be able to share a room with Draco? Especially since he knew that sharing a room would mean sharing a bed because after the Burrow was renovated, none of the rooms had two twin beds anymore, only double beds or children’s beds._ _

__Molly’s face disappeared and Arthur reached through and patted Harry’s shoulder. “Love can be intimidating sometimes, but I believe all will be well in the end. Tell him we’re looking forward to seeing him.”_ _

__“Harry, I never thought they would welcome me like this. As if nothing in my past had even happened!” Draco said quietly as they were getting the things they needed for the night out of their trunks._ _

__“No, they know what happened after the war. How you’ve done your best to be a better person and been successful. Knowing all that, they welcome the man you are now, the man I’m glad I can finally be friends with. Don’t belittle yourself, you’re worth our friendship.” Harry wanted to hug Draco, but if he did, he would only want to do more, and that was not what Draco would want._ _

__“Would I still be welcome here if they knew that I’m gay?”_ _

__“You know why Ginny isn’t here? Her girlfriend invited her to celebrate Christmas Eve with her family. And in the morning, she’s coming over to officially introduce her girlfriend to all of us. Does that answer your question? Plus, they all know that I’m bi.”_ _

__Harry took his pyjamas and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and change his clothes. He wasn’t sure if pyjamas counted as undergarments or not, so he put them on over his lingerie, so they didn’t turn into lingerie, too._ _

__As he padded back into the room, he saw that Draco had conjured a board in the middle of the bed. “Sorry, but I tend to roll around a lot in my sleep, and I wouldn’t want to bother you.”_ _

__Well, it was probably better this way. After all, he didn’t want to creep Draco out by rolling onto Draco’s side, especially if he had a hard-on. And, unsurprisingly, he got one soon enough, just from lying so close to Draco and listening to his breathing._ _

__  
Something wet on his collarbone startled him awake, but before he was awake enough to open his eyes, he felt something heavyish pin down his left shoulder. The smell of apples, spices, and Draco’s cologne flooded his senses the same second._ _

__He opened his eyes, craning his neck slightly, and saw a blond head of hair. _But how? Why? What happened to the board between their sides of the bed? One of us must have cast a Finite Incantatem in his sleep.__ _

__Which meant that the liquid that had woken him up was drool. Draco Malfoy was sleeping in his arms, close enough to drool on him. It should have been disgusting, but it felt so right, like something he would be glad to have every night – not necessarily the drool, but the feeling of holding Draco. He tried to ignore the lower half of his body and pretend that his erection was nothing more than a normal morning wood. Counting sheep helped him to drift off back to sleep._ _

__  
The next time he woke up, Harry was lying on his left side and Draco, who was spooning him, was the one with a very noticeable morning wood. If only there was a more personal explanation for it! A _lumos liber_ , a lumos separated from the wand tip and floating near the ceiling, but not quite as bright as a _lumos maxima_ , shone its light through the room, as peaceful as a summer morning._ _

__To distract himself, Harry lifted his right hand, reaching for his glasses on the bedside cabinet, but instead finding a jar that had not been there yesterday evening. Next to it, there was a scrap of Muggle paper. He held it close enough to his eyes to, without his glasses, decipher the words written on it: “Do us all a favour and shag already.” It was clearly written with a Quick-Quotes Quill, so the handwriting wasn’t giving away the author._ _

__He sighed. Shagging Draco was definitely something he would like, but their new friendship had no indications that they would ever be anything more._ _

__“What is it, Harry? And where the fuck did the board go?” Draco’s voice sounded deliciously sleepy._ _

__“Someone wants us to shag. They even put lube on the bedside table.” Harry handed Draco the paper and looked for his glasses again, finding them this time._ _

__“As if the eternal Golden Boy would ever shag an ex-Death Eater,” Draco replied, oddly glum._ _

__“As if someone as posh as you would ever shag someone with messy hair who would have had a better upbringing if he had been raised by dogs and wolves.”_ _

__“After you grew out your hair, it actually looks rather good.” Was that... _fondness_ in Draco’s voice?_ _

__“And I’d shag – or date – you any time. I admire the man you have become,” Harry blurted out uncontrollably. What the fuck was that? Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut?_ _

__Draco brought the paper to his nose, then gave an exasperated huff. “ _Eau de Vérité_. A variation on Veritaserum that works even if you just smell it. You can’t hold back the truth. That on top of the note and the lube… someone is meddling with us, and we need to find out who. But first…” He paused to stroke Harry’s cheek and lips with the back of his hand, “Turn around, Harry, please. I’d like to kiss you.” His voice sounded almost shaky._ _

__Harry turned and was immediately pulled into a tentative kiss. Harry deepened the kiss, and dragged his hand down Draco’s arm, not daring to go any further for now._ _

__When they needed air, Draco gasped, “I’ve dreamt of this, like, forever, but I never thought…”_ _

__“Draco, you could have had that a long time ago if you hadn’t chosen to act like a prat and cockblocked yourself.” He unbuttoned Draco’s pyjama top, delighting in that perfect feeling of Draco’s skin underneath it. “We shouldn’t use the lube, though, not until we’re sure it’s not some untested wheeze of George’s.”_ _

__“I don’t do one-offs,” Draco declared._ _

__“Neither do I- I want us to be together, officially.”_ _

__“Yes,” Draco gasped and pushed up Harry’s old Ramones t-shirt. Harry paused and took it off, throwing it out of the bed._ _

__“You- are- gorgeous! I- may I-” Draco traced his fingers across Harry’s stag tattoo. Harry released a light moan, overwhelmed by how good Draco’s hands felt._ _

__A light tingle revealed to him that the dragon had moved closer to where Draco was touching him. Suddenly, Draco stilled and his eyes grew big and round. “Harry, you have a _Draco sidus_ on your body. You have my name as a tattoo!” He showered Harry’s chest with kisses._ _

__Harry scooted down a bit to catch Draco’s mouth in another kiss. He summoned his courage and let his hand slide under the waistband of Draco’s pyjama bottoms, feeling something distinctly lacy on his fingers. Surprised, he broke the kiss. “Don’t tell me it’s red!”_ _

__“It is; a house elf hexed all my black lingerie red.”_ _

__“Seamy! She turned all my boxer shorts into lace pants and garter stockings.”_ _

__Draco laughed and nodded. “Let me see.” He took off Harry’s pyjama bottoms, then removed his own. The men paused to admire each other’s beauty. Harry was astounded at how good Draco looked, dressed in only red lace panties and a thin garter belt holding up red fishnet stockings. It looked even better than it had in the Mirror of Erised. He was the first to move again, making a trail of open-mouthed kisses from Draco’s left nipple, down to his belly button, and then to the waistband of his tenting pants. Draco’s skin smelled and tasted irresistible. “I want to go down on you, would you like that?”_ _

__“But what if I come in your mouth...” Draco sounded hesitant._ _

__“That’s the intention behind blowjobs, unless... you’re not into that? We could do something else…” Harry tried to calm him down._ _

__“You would really want that? I’ve given them, but never received. No one has ever wanted that, not with me.” Draco looked towards his left arm, “They had me kneel for them, but…” He fell silent and looked at Harry insecurely._ _

__“Draco, whoever you have been with was stupid and didn’t deserve such a wonderful man like you. I want to give you all kinds of enjoyment and get all kinds of enjoyment from you. May I? If there’s something you don’t want, tell me, but I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want this.” “Yes, please,” Draco breathed._ _

__Harry leaned a bit lower and kissed the inside of his thigh, where the skin was soft, and basked in the perfect scent of Draco. He snapped open the garter straps on the left leg, rolling them down and following his hands with kisses, then trailed back up and repeated the procedure with the other side. Finally, he pulled down Draco’s pants. “Mmmh, the best Christmas present I ever got to unwrap. You are gorgeous.” He stroked Draco’s abdomen, and Draco gasped silently._ _

__He lapped tentatively at Draco’s length. Draco gave a soft moan, so Harry repeated it. Guided by the sounds Draco made, Harry explored, looking at Draco’s face from between his legs. Draco’s eyes were heavy-lidded and his mouth released the most delicious sounds as he responded to Harry’s ministrations._ _

__Harry took Draco’s cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue, then hollowed out his cheeks and bobbed his head as Draco keened at the top of his voice._ _

__“Harry, gonna… gonna…” Draco groaned and came. Harry swallowed, and it felt just perfect. He scooted back up after a moment and looked into Draco’s eyes._ _

__“Thank you so much,” Draco whispered when he was breathing easily again. Then, he kissed Harry’s neck while his fingers stroked across his chest before pinching Harry’s nipples. One hand moved down, following the dragon across Harry’s stomach. Harry craned his neck when Draco sucked on his nipple and trailed open-mouthed kisses down to Harry’s belly button._ _

__Harry felt Draco’s hand caressing his cock through the lingerie and cast a wandless _Nudus_ on himself, unable to wait a second longer to feel Draco’s beautiful hand, skin on skin. _ _

__“I wanted to remove them,” Draco said._ _

__“Next time, can’t wait, need you now, nnnghhh,” Harry pleaded, keening, as Draco’s fingers wrapped themselves around his length, and shortly after, he was engulfed by Draco’s warm, wet mouth._ _

__“Fuck! Ahhh, so good.” The swirling tongue, and those beautiful lips smiling around his cock…_ _

__“Please, please. Yes. Ooohhhhh. Draco, please, more,” He whimpered as he sank down into the sweet perfection of coming undone._ _

__Losing track of his own babbling, he let go and came._ _

__Draco let Harry’s spent cock slip out of his mouth and moved back up into Harry’s arms. “Mmh, I love the noises you make when you come undone.”_ _

__“And I love yours, thank Merlin for sil…. Shit! We forgot about the silencing charm.”_ _

__Draco blushed._ _

__“I guess the whole family will know what we got up to here; the Burrow doesn’t have the thickest walls,” Harry chuckled. It was no use crying over spilt milk._ _

__“Oh, shit. Mr. Burke is sleeping next door. And we were loud.” Draco clapped his hand over his mouth._ _

__“Bloody hell! I had forgotten about the Burkes. Although, they did contribute to the situation by sending us Seamy. At least they won’t be shocked that we got together.”_ _

__  
They cast cleansing charms on their bodies, got dressed, and left the room, just as the Burrow was stirring to life._ _

__“Good morning and merry Christmas, Harry, Draco, did you sleep well? Your room was so quiet this morning, I didn’t even hear your steps when you got up,” George greeted them._ _

__Harry looked around; nobody else was in the sitting room. Was George taking the piss? Anyway, with George, frankness was usually was the best solution._ _

__“But we were shagging noisily,” he declared with a grin._ _

__“Suuuure. Oh, fuck, the way Draco is blushing, you aren’t kidding me. Don’t worry, mate, the silencing charms were in place. I heard nothing.” George patted Draco’s shoulder._ _

__“Must’ve been the person who put the lube on the bedside cabinet,” Draco whispered in Harry’s ear, “ they’ll be disappointed we haven’t used it yet. Serves them well for not signing the note.”_ _

__“Draco, merry Christmas. Nice to see you here. Did Harry and you enjoy our Christmas present?” Pansy walked into the living room, her arm around Ginny. “I would have left it up to you to cast the silencing charm yourself, but Gin told me there are teenagers in the house.”_ _

__“Thanks, Pans. We did forget about it. But why did you have to spray Eau de Vérité on the card?” Draco raised an eyebrow._ _

__“I’ve had to listen to you pine for Potter since first year, and I’m sick and tired of it, and Ginny told me Harry has been annoyingly pining for you, too, so we decided to force you to talk _to_ each other instead of about each other.” She turned to Harry. “Sorry, Potter, I hope you can forgive me, but I knew that Draco would recognise the smell and find a way to avoid talking to you.”_ _

__“It’s okay. But, if you’re dating Ginny, it’s time you’re on a first name basis with all of us.”_ _

__“Merry Christmas, boys. A Hogwarts elf brought a packet for you this morning already. Said it’s rose bread. If you share it, you’ll officially start courtship, according to wizarding tradition.” Molly walked into the kitchen._ _

__“I’ll buy the gifts,” both men declared at the same time._ _

__“Who says you can’t both exchange gifts, Professors?” Liam’s voice came from the corridor. “Heteronormativity is for losers.”_ _


End file.
